For the brief life of this blog, I have rigorously managed my drafts folder. I kept one post full of post fuel and a few posts in process. If a post was in process for more than a few days, I trashed it. Maybe I bounced some part of it back into post fuel, maybe I didn’t.
Over the last week, my drafts have been multiplying too quickly for my tastes. Part of this has to do with the broader arc of my spiritual work. I cemented a long ritual arc and like a rock sunk into a full pot of water it has displaced and stirred me. Some of the drafts produced have been reflexive, reaching to capture the overflow only to find the sand and water spill between my fingers. Much of the rest is an overeager effort to guess how what remains will fall back into place.
What I have actually posted publicly isn’t quite satisfying, but it does commemorate the stirring. That is worth doing because I feel we are crossing some sort of threshold in this world and that the stirring I feel has ties to a deeper stirring at large, like the way small twisters whirl off of a larger one. Though it frustrates me, the uneven joining of word, thought, and experience present in these posts is proper to that restlessness.
Those poorly matching joints pose a challenge that I have been trying to rise to since the inception of this blog. I have been trying to find a way of talking about a broadly spiritualist practice that loosens it from the many traditional and isolated expressions of it. I wish I could say that I saw a new universal formulation of the practice on the horizon, but I suspect that all such universal practices are mirages. The best we can ever hope for is a broader market in which the many strands can wheel and deal with each other.
Even that feels further on the horizon, so presently I loosen.
If a new market can be established, it will require participants who do not easily get lost amidst its stalls. This is why I talk often about paying attention to your affinities to the various aspects of the spiritual world–those are the clues to discovering who and what you are, where you belong. That provides the foundation from which genuine exchange can begin.
There is a storm on the horizon whose outline I can only guess at. When it breaks, the better your sense of yourself and your place, the readier you will be to make the hard choices that hard times demand. We will likely need each other, too, need to be able to reach beyond our small havens and help those without shelter or whose shelters have been broken. We may all end up without shelter and, if so, we will need each other all the more. Where there is need, there is great danger for oppression. We must struggle against that as best we can manage.
I’m not sure if the frequency or character of my posts will change here. In general, this has been a front porch sort of affair for me. Maybe I will need to bring it a little more into the house, or at least open the front door a little wider. Maybe not. Like I said, I’m still unsettled.
Okay, that is enough for now. Take care, everyone.